


So I Wanna Go Another Way

by miangel29



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Crack, Drama, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 20:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miangel29/pseuds/miangel29
Summary: A series of standalone, unrelated (unless otherwise stated) drabbles/oneshots on the daily life occurrences of GOT7 members.Story 5: Wang's Worries - JJP (angst, fluff, Jackson POV): Jackson just wants his best friend to get over his petty ass.Story 4: Light in the Eclipse - JJP (fluff): A little heart-to-heart pillow talk between JJP.Story 3: I Need You (And That's Okay) - JJP (angst): Jinyoung can't stay away from Jaebeom. Jaebeom re-learns how relationships work.Story 2: Tuan's Troubles - JJP (fluff, Mark POV): Mark did not sign up for all this when he wanted to become an idol.Story 1: Hollow - JJP (angst): Jinyoung thought Jaebeom wouldn’t be like the others. He thought Jaebeom would stay. (Or the story of the half-empty bookshelf)





	1. Hollow - JJP

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, this is my first GOT7 fanfic after being a silent reader to so many other GOT7 fics out there. I’m a huge JJP shipper (who isn’t, though?) and I really wanted to do them justice. I have so much inspiration for JJP and I have these conversations with my sister about possible scenarios, that I decided to just start writing drabbles/oneshots. I’ve started something similar with Monsta X (for those of you interested in reading that too). And like that one, these drabble/oneshots will be canon, unrelated to one another (unless stated otherwise), and do not follow a certain timeline. Title is obviously taken from 'I Am Me' lyrics x)
> 
> A brief note on the first story:  
> I know the fandom has been going berserk over that one moment in (originally) MarkGyeom’s Vlive with the empty bookshelf and Jinyoung seemingly staring at it, so, surprise, surprise, that is the basis for this first oneshot. It portrays a little bit of how I see the dynamics in and history of JJP’s relationship. I might write a follow-up to this particular oneshot, depending on whether inspiration comes or not. But, for the time being, I hope the angst isn’t too much.
> 
> Would appreciate some love and feedback <3

 

 

**Hollow** \- _JJP_

 

***

 

It wasn’t that Jinyoung didn’t trust Jaebeom. They had long gone past the stage where a relationship was ridden with suspicion and easily-triggered jealousy. But it was a different kind of trust that Jinyoung had never managed to completely build, less to do with his relationship with Jaebeom and more to do with his own, personal, deeply-rooted sense of insecurity. And it wasn’t like he had a reason to question their relationship. There had been no recent major fights or problems that came in between them—something that had frequented the earlier stages of their relationship. Then again, this might just be the start of one.

“Babe, I just moved apartments,” Jaebeom’s voice poured through Jinyoung’s cell phone, soothing and patient, but it only served to irk Jinyoung even more. “I’m not leaving you.”

_But you did_ , JInyoung couldn’t help thinking. _You left_.

Jinyoung could hear Mark and Yugyeom in their (a loose translation of this plurality as only three people remained in the apartment) living room, loudly saying that Jinyoung was taking a shower in response to fans questioning his whereabouts. He wanted to laugh, hollowly, at how far from the truth that was. To say that he was doing something as mundane as _showering_ , when, in reality, the only running liquid he felt would be pouring through any part of his body would be tears.

“Jinyoung, baby,” Jaebeom’s voice cut through his thoughts, his usual sharp lilt toned down with the evident concern in them. Jinyoung hated the pet name more than ever at that moment. He didn’t feel that Jaebeom deserved such intimacy with him when he was so far away.

“You took everything,” Jinyoung said matter-of-factly, knowing he sounded utterly whiny. “You didn’t leave a single trace that you ever lived here.”

Try as he may, Jaebeom couldn’t hide the sigh that escaped him. “Why would I leave anything behind if I’m not living there anymore?” Jinyoung noted a hint of exasperation and _oh God_ , it hurt.

Jinyoung wanted to scream, wanted to yell, wanted to strangle Jaebeom with that insufferable bucket hat of his. But he was the one that felt like suffocating. He was the one that felt his chest constrict with pain.

Distantly he could hear Mark or Yugyeom (did it matter who?) call him and ask him if he was done with his ‘shower’ and that the fans were waiting. For once in his life, Jinyoung wanted to relieve himself of the burden of idolhood, throw away everything he had worked for in the past almost-decade, say ‘ _screw it_ ’ to his company and contract and just run away, run to a place where no one could find him, where no one could hurt him, where _no one could ever leave him_.

Nobody can leave you if they were never with you in the first place.

“You left,” Jinyoung said, as though repeating this fact would somehow change it. “You left without even talking to me about it.”

“When Jackson, Bambam and Youngjae moved out, they didn’t talk about it either,” Jaebeom pointed out. “How is this any different?”

Jinyoung grit his teeth. “Because I’m not in a fucking relationship with Jackson, Bambam or Youngjae. I would think my own _boyfriend_ would have the decency to discuss these things with me.”

If the uncharacteristic use of a curse word had not been telltale enough, the venom in Jinyoung’s voice was clear and very, very real. It was odd but also so apparent because Jinyoung had so much self-control over his emotions and concealing them from everyone that having them on such open display would unnerve anyone. Jaebeom was, of course, the exception to that rule, having been subjected to the most raw, the deepest buried emotions Jinyoung had. Yet maybe it was exactly due to that familiarity that Jaebeom didn’t pick up on the utter poison Jinyoung was spitting out. That or this distance, as Jinyoung had feared, was more than just putting miles between them.

“Jinyoungie, I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this now when I moved out three months ago,” Jaebeom said, the exasperation becoming more pronounced. “This doesn’t change anything. We’ll still see each other all the time for work and outside of work. I can come to your place, you can come to mine.” His tone softened. “I still love you very much.”

Those words should have appeased him, should have put Jinyoung at comfort, but, instead, the tightening in his chest only worsened.

“We’ve lived together since we were teenagers, almost a decade ago, Jaebeom. We’ve never been apart. How do you expect me to deal with you suddenly not being here?” Jinyoung choked at his last words, willing his tears to stay away, stay at bay. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t let Jaebeom hear his tears.

“I know, baby,” Jaebeom said. “And we’ve been together for almost as long. I like to think our relationship is stronger than just me living in a different apartment. It’s not like I live that far away or that we’re in different timezones.”

It made sense. Everything Jaebeom said made sense. But logical sense wasn’t what weighed Jinyoung down.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Jinyoung wanted to laugh at how incredibly thick Jaebeom was being, but he was putting all his efforts into willing his tears down. “You really don’t get it.”

He could hear his name being called out again to join the Vlive lest the fans become too suspicious of his prolonged absence.

“I think you should go join Mark and Gyeom, baby. Ahgahses are–.”

“You’re just like everyone else,” Jinyoung interjected, that feeling of reckless abandon of his idol responsibilities hitting once more in light of the utter torture he felt in his heart. “In the end, nobody ever stays.”

Flashbacks of former trainees, of people he had thought would be his comrades, his _friends_ , people he thought he could rely on to be by his side throughout the hell that was trainee life, all departing one by one. A memory of the day he found out that Hyunwoo had also left, cleared out his locker without a single goodbye nor even an indication of his parting, and of the sheer distress it had bought him. The memory of him crying in the company stairwell that day, alone, so, so alone, hugging himself for comfort and trying to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault Hyunwoo left. It wasn’t his fault people left. He remembered the toxic thought that entered his mind that day, the notion that even if people leaving wasn’t his fault, he didn’t give them enough of a reason to stay. His friendship, his companionship, his presence, wasn’t worth enough for anyone to stay.

Not until Jaebeom had found him in the same stairwell an hour or so later, and sat by him in silence, letting him cry himself out. When he finally did, Jaebeom had spoken, without asking, without even prompting Jinyoung to explain himself, Jaebeom had said, then and there, that they had each other, that he would stay. That he wouldn’t leave Jinyoung. That he would never leave Jinyoung.

In the years to come, he began to believe this. Their eventual entry into a romantic commitment seemingly cemented this. Jinyoung should have realized that he’d been a fool for falling into that illusion.

As though reminiscing the same line of memories, Jaebeom finally seemed to gain some perception into Jinyoung’s inner thoughts. “Babe, this is nothing like Hyunwoo-hyung or the others. I’m not breaking up with you. I’m not leaving you. You have nothing to worry about.”

Jinyoung wanted to believe him. He really did. He loved Jaebeom, he trusted him with all his heart and he knew Jaebeom would never try to hurt him, intentional or otherwise. But Jinyoung had been battling this sense of abandonment for so long that the wave of traumatic nostalgia it was giving him overwhelmed everything else.

And it broke Jinyoung’s heart that Jaebeom still didn’t get that.

“You know what I went through, Jaebeom. You _know_ how hard it was for me. And then you do _this_. You do the _exact same thing_.”

“Nyoung, baby, that’s not–.”

Jinyoung pressed on, too hurt to let Jaebeom have his say. “You should’ve known, Jaebeom. _You_ , of all people, should have known.”

He hung up, unable to bear the conversation any longer and because Mark’s calls were beginning to sound slightly aggravated. Quickly silencing his phone, he ignored the message notification that immediately popped up on his screen from the man he had just been talking to. He couldn’t evade Jaebeom for too long, knowing they would have to gather as a team within the next couple of days to come, but, until that moment he absolutely had to face Jaebeom, he wanted no contact with the man. If he wanted to erase his presence from the apartment (Jinyoung tried hard not to think ‘from _his heart_ ’ too), then who was Jinyoung to stand in his way.

Taking in deep breaths to recompose himself, Jinyoung readjusted his glasses and his clothes before stepping out of his room. By that time, Mark had gotten around to showing off their trophy collection, creating a mess of the neatly stacked boxes more than anything, as he excitedly pointed each one out to the phone camera.

Yugyeom noticed his emergence first, a silent frown marring his face at the depressing aura surrounding Jinyoung. He watched Jinyoung but said nothing when he stood behind Yugyeom as Mark finally noticed his appearance and panned the camera out to him. Jinyoung could see the way Yugyeom’s shoulders tensed when he felt the tight clutch of Jinyoung’s grip on his t-shirt. He knew Yugyeom recognized it as an act of seeking grounding, something Jinyoung only did when he was much too overwhelmed with emotions that he needed to physically anchor himself to someone—usually Jaebeom—to maintain his hold on reality and, as an extension, sanity. Probably deducing who Jinyoung had just been on the phone with, he hated to think what Yugyeom thought of such a gesture. Thankfully, he said nothing, remaining with his intercepting remarks of hype at Mark’s run through their award trophies. Jinyoung tried to make an offhand remark about the dwindling phone battery, relieved that his voice sounded stable and so _normal_.

His focus was torn from Mark and his rushed introduction of their awards by the sight to his right, the scene that had triggered the phone call in the first place and brought realization on the gravity of Jaebeom’s move out: the half-empty bookshelf.

His mind brought him back to that moment he and Jaebeom had decided to buy a bookshelf for the apartment, a joint purchase that neither one thought too much of but something the fans seemed to think symbolized their domesticity. Laughable at the time, because it was a _bookshelf_. It was a practical purchase for storage, not a hidden declaration of his and Jaebeom’s romantic commitment to one another. But maybe the fans had been right, maybe it _did_ signify something of the kind, as though it depicted their stability, their permanence in each other’s lives. But Jinyoung had never put too much thought into it. Not until he saw it half empty earlier that day and felt the bone-crushing grief and fear of abandonment engulfing his being.

His attention was broken with Yugyeom’s offhanded question. “That’s a nice hoodie.”

Another pang to his heart. “Yeah, I got it from someone special.” The implication to who that person was was silent, unsaid, but the grim smile Yugyeom gave him let him know he wasn’t being discreet. Was this what he was left with? These  hoodies, gifts, tokens of affection and expressions of devotion? Would they be enough for him to not feel so smothered by desertion? Would they be able to fill in the emptiness that Jaebeom’s physical constant presence by his side had left?

The pile up of missed call and message notifications he saw on his phone didn’t help in the least bit of the reminder of what was occupying his mind.

_‘Baby, I’m sorry.’_

_‘Please pick up the phone.’_

_‘We need to talk about this.’_

_‘Nyoung, don’t ignore me, please.’_

The bookshelf stood empty on its right half, devoid of its occupant, a representation of what once had been and what was no longer there for Jinyoung. No, nothing could chase that feeling of hollow abandonment away.

It was easier to act _normal_ with a camera to his face, after years of practiced ease at putting up a front when the red recording light was on. It was easier to smile, to laugh, to joke around about their Hard Carry episodes, pretend nothing was wrong, pretend that the hood tied closely around his face was due to his unshaven face when, really, he was trying hard to conceal any lingering signs of his impending tears and internal battle (and maybe because that was the closest thing to Jaebeom he had at that moment).

Jinyoung wanted to stop hurting. He wanted to forgive Jaebeom. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. He knew this, by no means, defined their relationship. But Jaebeom should have known. Jaebeom, who was supposed to know him better than anyone else, who had been there with Jinyoung from the very beginning and seen the worst of things together with him, who knew of all his insecurities and struggles, he should have known.

He should have known.

 

***


	2. Tuan's Troubles - JJP (Mark POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better way to know what goes on in Jaebeom and Jinyoung's relationship than to look through the eyes of one exasperated insider by the name of Mark Tuan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the onslaught of JJP interactions at the airport before they flew off for their Japan event recently (before JUS2 promos) and fan-accounts at the Japanese hi-touch event that JB seemed to suffering back pains/discomfort. I thought it was interesting just how touchy they were and how Mark seemed to hover uncertainly nearby, almost just so done with his two friends/bandmates acting so exhaustingly PDA-esque.
> 
> As promised, this is fluff! I have a slight angst in store which is set sometime before this but after 'Hollow', but I don't know when I'll ever be able to conclude that given how much I enjoy writing the angst lol
> 
> Anywho, comments are always welcome <3

 

 **Tuan's Troubles** -  _JJP_   (Mark POV)

 

***

Mark was a simple man who liked his simple joys. He didn’t need much in life, just his video games, family and friends (and the occasional expensive wine). His fellow GOT7 members fell into the family category, but sometimes he felt like he needed a legitimate justification to write them off that list and do without them. More often than not, this was triggered by two particular members, the least expected suspects of the seven.

Yugyeom and Bambam were quite the handful, but more often than not, he found them entertaining more than annoying. He shared joint custody over Coco with Youngjae, so he really couldn’t hate the younger man. Jackson was a loudmouth and so exhaustibly over-the-top almost constantly, but Mark had always reserved a soft spot for him, whether he realized it or not.

No, it really came down to the seed of GOT7, the project duo that figuratively conceived their group of seven.

Jaebeom and Jinyoung.

The established couple were, for lack of a better term, quite the rollercoaster ride to watch. And not exactly the fun kind that gave Mark an adrenaline rush with happy hormones in the end. Their relationship’s origins began shortly before their official debut, Mark being on the constant receiving end of Jinyoung’s ranting woes prior to things being official. He’d really thought settling that status would have been the end to the years-long drama that was Jinyoung and Jaebeom skirting around the elephant feelings in the room and dealing with it in the unhealthiest ways possible.

He should have known that was a little too good to be true.

Mark didn’t know whether he preferred a fighting Jaebeom and Jinyoung or a reconciled one. He learned very early into their relationship that they were both unbearable in either conditions. Late last year, there had been so much drama and passive aggressive back-and-forth, which meant a platinum upgrade of Jinyoung’s snappiness and snarkiness and a surprising increase in Jaebeom’s solemn songwriting. It affected the team from the simple fact that they refused to talk to one another unless absolutely necessary and avoided being in the same room together without at least one other member around. Thankfully, by the time winter rolled around, they had resolved the matter (honestly, Jaebeom should have _known_ moving out had implications on his relationship) back to being insufferably and sickeningly giggly and touchy like they had been on the cusp of their early relationship. Mark wished they would just settle like a normal couple.

Currently, his two bandmates were back to what Mark liked to call the ‘spring’ period, blooming with love and with a possible increase in offspring-creating activities. There were no conflicts and they blatantly acted like the lovestruck couple brimming with public displays of affection. It was marred only slightly by the cloud that was Jinyoung’s drama shooting schedule, which didn’t necessarily mean negative tension for the two, but certainly one of a more yearning nature from lack of direct and constant contact.

It also meant a sudden increase of Jaebeom spending his time at the studio but coming out with very little, if any musical results. Mark chose to selectively not ponder what Jaebeom did in the confines of his own studio during those times.

But today was a different day. Jaebeom hadn’t locked himself up in his studio since his solitary Instagram live (one that had been followed by Jaebeom showing up to the company very prim and spotlessly clean-shaven the next morning, to everyone’s surprise and wonder). Far from it, he had spent almost the entire morning humming and whistling some unidentifiable upbeat tune as he catered to his cats needs and cleaned his apartment, preparing for their brief trip to Japan. Mark stole occasional glances at a puttering Jaebeom as he rose levels in his cell phone game.

“Do you know what time Jinyoung will be at the airport?” Jaebeom asked him as he walked pass with a large bag of litter sand.

“I’m sure he’s already told you and you already have it set on your scheduler, don’t you?” Mark said, not even looking up from his phone.

“Right, so we’re meeting him at the airport, right? He’s not coming here first, is he? We’ll see him as we check in?”

Mark tried not to sigh. “Yes, we’re meeting him at the airport. No, he’s not coming here. If anything, he might go back to our old apartment where his things are, but certainly not _here_. And yes, we’ll see him at check-in.”

“Do you think he’ll be too tired? Do you think he’ll need a day off before he flies off to Japan?”

Mark gave a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know. He’s _your_ boyfriend. Ask him yourself.”

“Maybe I should help him pack? Has he got his stuff ready at the apartment? Did manager-hyungnim pack enough scarves for him? You know how sensitive his neck gets, even when it’s not winter.”

Why had Mark volunteered to fetch Jaebeom for the airport? Why hadn’t he just gone with Youngjae instead? He could have spent time with Coco _and_ avoided having to deal with a frantic Jaebeom excitedly anticipating his reunion with his partner.

A sweet, sugar-heavy, high tone cut through Mark’s thoughts.

“Hey baby.”

It was followed by a lot of cooing, shy giggling, and what was unmistakably kissy noises. Mark rolled his eyes. If only fans knew this crazy cat lady side of Jaebeom, a far cry from his ‘chic and sexy’ persona.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too, baby.”

Mark looked up, fingers hovering over his phone, cogs whirring in his mind. As if to assist his thoughts, scratching came from a corner of the living room and Mark saw five cats idly lazing about and entertaining themselves with the bars of their cage.

All five cats, in their large cage. Something about that didn’t sit right with Mark, but he hadn’t realized exactly _why_ until Jaebeom came back into the living room with his phone held up before him.

“Yeah, Mark’s here, babe, you wanna say hi?”

Without much preamble, the phone screen was shoved in front of Mark and he was greeted with a slightly grainy footage of a smiling Jinyoung, video unsteady as he was clearly moving about. Jaebeom went back to puttering about.

“Hey, Mark-hyung.” Jinyoung gave him a little wave. “I’m almost done getting ready. Are you and Jaebeom-hyung leaving soon?”

“If your boyfriend stops fretting about seeing you, then yeah, we can leave.”

Jinyoung had the audacity to _laugh_. Did he think Mark was kidding? Did he think this ridiculous mating ritual he and Jaebeom did was something that hadn’t exasperated Mark for the five years they had been together as a group (and before that when the couple were still obliviously skirting around each other)?

“You know how he gets when I’m away,” Jinyoung said, an apology in his eyes.

“You’ve been together longer than Coco’s been _alive_. Even _she_ deals with separation much better than him,” Mark pointed out.

Jinyoung frowned. “Did you just compare Jaebeom to a dog?”

“There weren’t any readily available cat analogies.”

“He’ll be too busy with his promotions with Yugyeom soon anyway. He’ll be out of your hair soon,” Jinyoung assured.

Mark snorted. “I don’t know what sin Yugyeom committed in his past life, but I hardly think it was bad enough to have to deal with a you-deprived Jaebeom as a fair form of redemption.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “Yugyeom can suffer his entire life for all I care.” Mark didn’t miss the slight tinge of reddening tips of Jinyoung’s ears.

“Sure,” Mark indulged, “let’s pretend you don’t monitor Yugyeom’s fansites obsessively to make sure the kid’s alright.”

Jinyoung shot him a glare. “Don’t you have a group leader to drag to the airport?”

Mark glanced in the direction of Jaebeom’s bedroom where Jaebeom was humming happily to himself, a definite skip in his step as he moved around to place the last remaining items in his suitcase.

“All I have to do is wave a picture of you in front of his face and I’m sure he’ll follow obligingly,” Mark said with a smirk.

Jinyoung couldn’t say much to that, his lips tightening and blush deepening. “That was _one time_.”

“Sure, Jinyoungie,” Mark teased. “Sure.”

The sound of rolling wheels caught both of their attention and Jaebeom was emerging with his suitcases in tow. Mark handed the phone over without another word, rising out of his seat in the process. He really didn’t want to be around when the two made their parting goodbyes (silly, really, because they’d be seeing each other within the hour anyway) and made a beeline for the bathroom, pausing only to pet Nora who sat, poised and alert as she watched her human make silly noises to a digital screen. (Mark also mentally noted to tell Jaebeom that his favourite princess had apparently figured out how to escape the cage).

By some sort of miracle, Mark and Jaebeom were in their company van and en route to the airport within the next fifteen minutes (ten of which consisted of Jaebeom saying individual, customized goodbyes to each of his cats, and the remaining five, Jaebeom constantly checking himself out in his full-sized mirror—a pointless feat, in Mark’s opinion, because he still looked as though he’d just rolled right out of bed, and not in the good way).

Something about having spent most, if not all, their adult life in the spotlight must have numbed any sense of shame Jinyoung and Jaebeom had. Again, this was hardly a new occurrence, and it having been such a long time since they had been separated for more than a number of days (or a week at best), Mark barely batted an eye when the clearly unbridled pubic displays of affection began. One good outcome of that was that they drew most of the surrounding fans’ attention, leaving Mark to be a little detached from the spotlight. It didn’t stop him from wishing they would at least _try_ to pretend they weren’t so deeply infatuated with one another.

“The next time someone asks Jinyoung what his ideal type is, we should intervene and let people know it’s weird balding music composers who like to dance like an electrocuted headless chicken and dresses like his magic mirror is paid to always tell him he’s the fairest in the land.”

Mark couldn’t help the snort, ducking his head to avoid any curious glances and his expression being caught on camera. Bambam barely hid his own laughter behind his hands, his conspirational whisper in English being the highlight to Mark’s otherwise exasperating day.

“Jacks keeps saying Jinyoung could do so much better,” Mark said quietly, watching Jinyoung fix Jaebeom’s jacket with such soft eyes and smile that you would have to be blind to not see that he was clearly smitten.

“Maybe,” Bambam contemplated, “but I’m not sure anyone else would be willing to deal with Jinyoung’s petty ass and his constant moods.”

“We deal with it fine as a group,” Mark pointed out.

Bambam snorted. “You and I both know we don’t get the full brunt of Jinyoung because everything’s been through the Jaebeom filter.”

Mark watched the two subjects of their conversation share secret smiles and lean their heads together to speak in private. Perhaps people thought they were just feeding into the fan-frenzied skinship and avid shipping, but if anyone paid closer attention, they would realize that far from feeding the public, they seemed quite clearly isolated in their own little private bubble, disconnected from anything and everything that was not the two of them.

Jaebeom’s smile and the glitter in his eyes were so unrestrained, so pure, so _real_ , it was like seeing the young trainee emerge again with all the innocence, hopes, and passion of a young person pursuing their dream. And Jinyoung, Mark would be lying if he said Jinyoung wasn’t a different person when he was around Jaebeom. That usually carefully composed face, those usually tense and calculated posture that spoke of a person putting up an image, a front, a projection of his public self, that all fell apart in front of Jaebeom. The mere fact that Jinyoung had never, not even once, hid his laugh when directly conversing with Jaebeom spoke myriads of their relationship.

“I’d ship them too if I didn’t have to deal with their asses on a daily basis,” Mark sighed.

“Well, if you ever change your mind about that, just let Yugyeom know,” Bambam said, fingers deftly typing out a text on his phone. “He’ll hook you up with all the good shipping materials.”

Mark made a look of worry, choosing not to further query into their youngest member’s pastimes. Handing his passport and boarding pass over to the staff, he heard Jinyoung chuckle and adoringly mutter, “Babo,” behind him to a responding shy laugh from Jaebeom. Mark fervently prayed he was seated far, far away from the recently reunited couple.

***

The morning of their hi-touch event should have been a normal one. They would eat breakfast at the hotel, get their hair and make-up done, then be driven off to the venue and their awaiting fans. But when Jaebeom emerged at the hotel restaurant with Jinyoung behind him, a hand not-so-subtly rubbing up and down his back and a slight wince at every other step Jaebeom took, Mark couldn’t help the eye-roll.

“Hyung, are you OK?” Youngjae had the audacity to ask as the duo approached, frowning with worry. “You really shouldn’t practice so late into the night when you should be resting.” Sweet, innocent Youngjae.

Jaebeom waved off Youngjae’s concern, but Jinyoung had taken the empty seat next to Mark, the smirk so strongly embedded on his face that Yugyeom softly whimpered out of fear and dropped his gaze to his cereal bowl. Mark couldn’t blame him; Jinyoung’s smirks always preceded some form of affectionate torture he inflicted on their youngest bandmate. Clearly, this time, it had nothing to do with Yugyeom.

“Jaebeom-hyung got so excited last night, he pulled a muscle in his bad back,” Jinyoung whispered conspirationally to Mark, eyes twinkling.

“I really didn’t ask,” Mark said, pointedly not meeting Jinyoung’s gaze.

It didn’t work. “Almost makes it worth it not being able to see him for weeks on end. He was so _passionate_ ,” Jinyoung went on, picking up a fork and stealing bits of Mark’s scrambled eggs.

“I _really_ don’t want to know.” Why had Mark’s life come to this? What deity had he offended in his past life to warrant this torment when all he wanted to do was perform on stage and make music?

“We had to tell manager-hyungnim that he got injured lifting his luggage,” Jinyoung continued, chewing and picking up more eggs. “I don’t think hyungnim believed us, but he didn’t say anything and just gave us the first aid kit.”

Maybe silence was a better route and Jinyoung would take the hint to cease his speaking as well.

“Such a shame, really.” Alas, it only opened the window wider for Jinyoung to speak. “If hyung hadn’t gotten hurt, we could’ve gone much, much longer and–.”

Grabbing his plate with the last stray pieces of eggs that Jinyoung hadn’t managed to steal, Mark stood up abruptly and walked away without another word, shooting Jinyoung a stern look, followed by an accusatory glare at Jaebeom who was still being fussed over by a worried Youngjae.

Later on at the conclusion of their fan event, Mark found himself reaching out to assist Jaebeom as he exited, his back having still not fully recovered. He was being nice, he reasoned. A good friend, a caring bandmate.

“You alright?” Mark asked quietly, a hand on Jaebeom’s back, steadying him.

“Yeah,” Jaebeom answered, wincing a bit as he took one step down at a time. “I just hope my back doesn’t  hurt too much for tonight.”

Mark wasn’t dumb enough to ask what tonight had in store for Jaebeom. But just like his partner, Jaebeom took silence as an opportunity to carry on with his sharing of way too much information.

“Jinyoung will be away for drama shoots again once we land back in Korea, so we need to make the best of our time in Japan…together.”

Really. All Mark wanted as a child was to make his family proud, to make his friends happy, to stand on a stage with bandmates he would call brothers, singing songs of love, youth, and occasionally, hedonistic impulses.

Really. Mark was a simple person who wanted a life of music, video games, and cute dogs.

Really. When Mark signed up to be a part of GOT7, it should have come with a warning of bandmates who either couldn’t keep their hands off each other or kept being at each other’s throats, with a very healthy seasoning of more drama than any on-screen plot could provide.

Really.

Mark lead such a hard life.

***


	3. I Need You (And That's Okay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung can't stay away from Jaebeom.
> 
> Jaebeom re-learns what make relationships work.
> 
> (They both hurt, but at least they hurt together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all~  
> Some important things to bear in mind in terms of timeline:  
> \- this follows on after "Hollow" but before "Tuan's Troubles" (originally I had planned to post this before "Tuan's Troubles" but this took longer to finish than originally planned ^^")  
> \- this takes place after Jinyoung had been in Thailand to shoot Real Thai, around the time Yugyeom went off to shoot for Law of the Jungle, leading up to their Miracle comeback
> 
> Greatly inspired by the many, _many_ posts made late last year when we all discovered that Mark had to leave for China almost immediately after their return from Thailand, indicating that Jinyoung was alone in their old apartment. I also have a weakness for JJP being super protective over Yugyeom (he really is a baby, after all) and I imagine they constantly fret over him (Bambam too, I guess, but I always imagined that Markson played the more protective older brother roles for Bambam because of their shared similarity as foreigners in Korea).
> 
> As always, comments or general spazzing is most welcome!

 

**I Need You (And That's Okay) - _JJP_**

 

***

When the van had dropped them off at the apartment, their luggage securely returned to their respective rooms, Jinyoung made an immediate dash for the door again, uncaring and unconcerned that he hadn’t changed clothes let alone showered after a long day at a tropical country, ending with a flight to boot. He had nothing with him but the phone, wallet, and keys in his pocket.

“What do you want me to tell the managers?” Mark’s question halted him at the door.

Jinyoung hesitated, mind spinning with the array of excuses he’d collected over the years, unsure of which to choose for such a hasty departure.

“Family matters?” Mark offered.

Jinyoung nodded, back still to Mark, unsure he wanted to see the look of judgment on his best friend’s face at the knowledge of what he was about to do.

“Say hi to Jaebeom for me,” Mark said, just as Jinyoung closed the door behind him.

***

Jinyoung stood in front of the plain white door, easily accessing the apartment with a little search of their group chat of the time Jaebeom had first welcomed them to his new place. He was thankful, too, because it postponed the moment of him having this one-on-one with Jaebeom, the first of which after their hostile phone call without the buffer of their other five bandmates. He didn’t think Jaebeom deserved that first time to be through the monitor of his apartment intercom.

Buzzing the doorbell to announce his arrival, he didn’t think Jaebeom would open the door almost instantaneously.

“Jinyoung,” he said, a little unsure but nevertheless unsurprised.

“I’m still mad at you.” The disclaimer was made loud and clear.

Jaebeom nodded. An acknowledgement. He might have been expecting that, knowing Jinyoung well enough not to assume that things would merely resolve themselves over time. He hadn’t, however, been expecting the weight of an entire adult male suddenly colliding with him, strong arms circling him in a warm, tight, desperate embrace.

“But I’m too worried for Yugyeom right now and I need you.” The words were whispered softly, an admission of vulnerability that reflexively brought out Jaebeom’s instinct to comfort, to protect, to care.

The hug was returned, Jaebeom’s face burying into the nook of Jinyoung’s neck and exhaling with a tremble. “I know,” he said. “Me too.”

He also knew Jinyoung well enough to understand that the tightening of his hold around Jaebeom had little to do with his thoughts of Yugyeom’s well-being. He clutched Jinyoung’s jacket equally tightly to indicate that he understand in silent response.

_I’ve missed you_.

_I’ve missed you too_.

***

“Are you staying the night?” Jaebeom asked, pouring hot water into two mugs, drowning the teabags in them just as Jinyoung emerged from the bathroom after his long-delayed shower.

Jinyoung threw him a look usually (ironically) reserved for Yugyeom whenever he would say or do something utterly ridiculous and shameful. While it would typically invoke a whine out of Yugyeom, it did nothing but slightly confuse Jaebeom.

“But you didn’t bring any clothes….” Jaebeom trailed off as Jinyoung disappeared into his bedroom.

Frowning, he brought the two mugs of tea to the living room and settled on the floor in front of the TV, back against the sofa.

“So now that you’ve moved out, I’m not allowed to borrow your clothes anymore?” came Jinyoung’s voice from his bedroom.

Jaebeom winced at the insinuation, taking a sip of his hot tea to help swallow the bitter sarcasm of Jinyoung’s words. He appeared shortly after, in Jaebeom’s shorts and his oversized hoodie. If the circumstances had been different, Jaebeom might have felt nostalgic at having an apartment all to themselves, just the two of them, sharing clothes, cups of tea, and each other’s company. Jinyoung sat right beside him, legs crossed.

“I’ll take the couch then,” Jaebeom offered.

Jinyoung looked at him from where he’d taken a sip of his tea. “You think that’s going to help with my abandonment issues?”

Jaebeom knew, better than anyone, that sarcastic Jinyoung was a deeply hurt and defensive Jinyoung. But more than anything, it usually meant a very honest Jinyoung. And it hurt Jaebeom to hear Jinyoung being so openly upfront about his insecurities in unfiltered words because it meant that he had been so deeply wounded that he couldn’t even find the strength to try to put up pretenses.

“Just because I’m still mad at you, doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”

The statement was duly backed by Jinyoung placing a hand over Jaebeom’s unoccupied one on the floor. He didn’t pull back when Jaebeom interlaced their fingers.

“Speaking of clothes,” Jinyoung pulled out his phone, tone noticeably less sarcastic and much lighter, “did you actually dress Yugyeom for his trip? Because he looks like an entire Jaebeom closet threw up on him.” Jinyoung pulled up the fantaken pictures of Yugyeom at the airport, blue tracksuit, headband, and all.

Jaebeom leaned in to look at the pictures on Jinyoung’s phone screen, chuckling. “Believe it or not, he actually picked out the outfit himself.”

Jinyoung gave a noise of disapproval. “Out of all the people he could have chosen for his fashion influence, he chose _you_.”

“Would you rather he leave in a singlet top like Jackson?” Jaebeom challenged.

That brought out laughter from Jinyoung, memories of a determined Jackson leaving with their manager looking like the perfect epitome of a person out for a survival show, despite being fully informed that conditions wouldn’t be as extreme as they were portrayed.

“To be fair, Jackson had been working out really hard leading up to that time,” Jinyoung pointed out. “He had a right to show off the goods.”

“Goods, huh?” Jaebeom asked with raised eyebrows, looking right at Jinyoung. “Did you expect _me_ to show off the goods when I left for the jungle as well?”

At this, Jinyoung doubled over in laughter. Jaebeom watched him, Jinyoung in his most raw element of unbridled laughter, no hand covering his wide, open mouth and his upper teeth (as the company had instructed to keep his “flower boy” image), no sounds withheld from the depths of his stomach, every fibre of his being shaking in mirth.

“Alright, I may not have _goods_ like Jackson, but I _did_ end up getting exposed on the show anyway,” Jaebeom said. “And nobody _laughed_ at me for my ‘goods’.”

“Oh, hyung,” Jinyoung said, heaving with the end of his laughter. “Oh, hyung, don’t you remember?”

“Hm?”

The laughter died away at Jinyoung’s mouth, but his eyes remained twinkling—something Jaebeom hadn’t seen directed at him since the fight. “I like your goods very much.” Jinyoung’s voice suddenly dipped and his eyes locked onto Jaebeom’s. “And if I remember correctly, I showed you _exactly_ how much I liked your goods the night before you left for the jungle.”

Jaebeom felt the same flush tinge his cheeks as Jinyoung’s as the mood between them shifted. That familiar electrical current running between them that always seemed to crackle with the intensity as two benign chemical elements moved closer to create something explosive. Jaebeom saw the kiss coming long before Jinyoung leaned into him and lead him into it, lips fitting familiar crevices, hands cupping a familiar mold, sensations building a familiar emotion. He shouldn’t have let him, he shouldn’t have indulged, but it had been so long.

It had been so long.

“Jinyoung?”

He had initiated the kiss and he had ended it. And he was the one who now looked as though he hated himself for his lack of self-control, pulling back quickly and visibly moving a little further away. When Jaebeom reached out for his hand once more, unlike the first time, this time, Jinyoung slid his hand away, clutching onto his phone. Jaebeom watched him but Jinyoung was looking around, anywhere but at Jaebeom.

“Your apartment is pretty empty.” Jinyoung’s comment was perfunctory, a simple observation rather than an actual curiosity for the answer.

Jaebeom wondered if Jinyoung was aware how much he was setting himself up for dangerous grounds with that question. “I was lucky to even get this apartment on such short notice.” The implication was clear: Jaebeom’s departure had been hurried and poorly planned.

Jinyoung didn’t reply. Jaebeom watched him, clearly picking up Jinyoung’s determined ignorance at the breadcrumbs Jaebeom was deliberately leaving. If Jinyoung wanted to talk about the apartment, maybe it was time they talked about this entire debacle, the elephant in the room they were both choosing to adamantly dismiss.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I moved out?” he tried softly, tentatively.

Jinyoung shook his head slowly. “No.”

Jaebeom’s eyes didn’t leave his face, trying to read the stoic expression he was seeing. “Why not? I thought you’d want to know.”

Jinyoung’s gaze remained on his lap. “Because I’m scared.”

Frowning, Jaebeom prompted him on, “Of?”

“Of you having made the right decision.” His voice was steady, but small. “I’m scared you might have moved out for the right reason.” His head dropped onto his chest. “And I don’t know if my pride and my heart is ready to accept that.”

Despite everything, Jinyoung really was staying honest with him, not even trying to hide anything, as though he saw no point in doing so. Which was probably true, because Jaebeom would have picked up his lies quicker than he could blink.

“You know I love you, right?” Jaebeom tried.

Jinyoung closed his eyes, as though he needed that moment to compose himself and will himself to affirm his resolve. “I never doubted you,” Jinyoung admitted. “And that makes me even more scared to hear the truth.”

Unsure whether Jinyoung would deflect his attempts at intimacy again, Jaebeom scooted closer, closing the distance Jinyoung had set between where they were sitting. Either Jinyoung hadn’t noticed (which was unlikely, because the two of them had a knack for sensing each other’s presence and movements, no matter how minute the action), or he was a little more settled with being close to Jaebeom again and less guarded after the kiss. He wanted to comfort Jinyoung, calm his raging frustration and heartbreaking sadness, but Jaebeom didn’t think this would be the right time. Not until Jinyoung felt himself ready. He was relieved when Jinyoung let him rest a hand on his thigh, the unspoken affection conveyed.

Jinyoung’s attention was now on his phone that he had, once again, opened up to his SNS application, scrolling through his feed for more Yugyeom-related content. The sudden tittering of his laughter broke through the silence.

“I don’t know how he’ll ever survive the jungle,” Jinyoung said, pulling up a short fantaken clip of Yugyeom accidentally sipping through a straw with its plastic covering still in place.

Jaebeom echoed with his own chuckle. “Well, you sending him links about the island being native to a lot of sharks didn’t help.”

“He needed to be well-prepared,” Jinyoung argued, opening another fantaken picture of Yugyeom at the airport, this one of him leaning against the wall and looking, for the life of him, like he was a child abandoned by his parents. “Although that small waist pack looks barely enough to contain the things he would’ve needed. Why didn’t he bring a backpack?” Jinyoung looked at Jaebeom accusatorily as though it was _his_ fault Yugyeom packed light.

“You _do_ know that he had his bag of stuff with our manager, right?” Jaebeom said.

“I know,” Jinyoung huffed, body slumping against the sofa. “I just…he’s just a kid, Beom.”

Jaebeom tried not to react too much to the nickname, having not heard it for quite some time and not willing to admit even to himself how much that pained him. Jinyoung seemed unaware of the slip-up, still deep into his thoughts about Yugyeom.

“He’s twenty-one, Nyeongie,” Jaebeom said softly, the hand on Jinyoung’s thigh beginning to give small squeezes of comfort. “He’s now legal to drink in America.”

Jinyoung snorted. “He’ll always be a baby to me.”

_Our baby_ , Jinyoung used to say during their early GOT7 days. _Our baby that we need to take care of because he can’t go through what we did, Beom. He can’t. He’s just a young kid. We need to protect him._

The sentiment was silent, but the soft look in Jinyoung’s eyes as his gaze roved over the many, many pictures of Yugyeom spoke so much of his attachment to their youngest bandmate.

“Did he say anything to you when you took him out for dinner?” Jinyoung wanted to know, opening a particularly high definition picture of a smiling Yugyeom.

“Just that he wished he could be treated to free dinners all the time by me,” Jaebeom grinned.

Jinyoung chuckled, zooming in on the bag Yugyeom was carrying. “Does he know all he has to do is ask?”

“He was also sad that Bam wasn’t around to cheer him up and keep his spirits up,” Jaebeom went on. “Said he wished everyone wasn’t so busy so we could all send him off.”

“This is why I hate overlapping schedules,” Jinyoung sighed, finally logging out of his SNS and putting down his phone, hands going to his face in a frustrated manner.

Jaebeom watched him slouch forward, for the first time remembering that Jinyoung himself had only returned from an overseas trip and shooting schedule, quite evidently evading the rest he needed to come to his place, all because he needed Jaebeom, because the only person he trusted to share that vulnerable concern over Yugyeom was Jaebeom.

“Nyeong, baby,” he began tentatively, arm coming up to rest on Jinyoung’s back gently, emboldened when Jinyoung didn’t react negatively, “maybe we should call it a night. You need to rest.”

The tension in Jinyoung’s back eased a fraction, but he remained hunched over. Cautiously, Jaebeom began to rub circles on his back, hoping it would calm Jinyoung enough to cajole him to bed. A mumble came from Jinyoung’s covered face.

“What was that?” Jaebeom asked.

Jinyoung sat up straight. “Are you going to the studio tonight?” he looked right at Jaebeom, eyes bloodshot with fatigue, but expression firmly composed.

He was supposed to. Jaebeom had a deadline to meet and he had scheduled a night with his crew. But he knew, even if the words were unspoken, even if Jinyoung showed nothing of his inner thoughts through his expression, he knew that Jinyoung wanted him to stay. That and Jinyoung’s spiteful remark about abandonment issues earlier that evening rang clear in Jaebeom’s head.

“Not tonight, no,” Jaebeom answered, shaking his head.

Jinyoung saw the lie. Jinyoung could see beyond Jaebeom’s dismissal of his plans. But this was the message Jaebeom wanted him to receive, one he wanted Jinyoung to understand: _I’m still here for you. I’ll always be here for you_.

The nod came hesitant, almost unnoticeable. But Jinyoung’s words were coherent. “Let’s go sleep.”

They rose at the same time. “Go ahead, I need to wash up a bit first,” Jaebeom said.

When Jaebeom returned to his bedroom minutes later, it was to a very conscious Jinyoung lying on his side, watching Jaebeom’s every move as he entered and made his way to the empty side of the bed.

“Aren’t you tired?” Jaebeom asked, pulling off his glasses and setting it down on the bedside table.

“I am,” Jinyoung agreed.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Jaebeom pulled the covers back and slipped inside, settling in to a comfortable position.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Jaebeom looked to his right, catching Jinyoung’s gaze unwavering from his lock on him. His eyes were bright, teary almost, expecting, anticipating, hoping. Jaebeom fought against himself, knowing this could potentially destroy everything he had resolved to do, the seemingly steely determination he thought he had, threatened by the same man that lay behind the motivation for his actions.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nyeong,” Jaebeom said, the quiver in his voice betraying him.

“I never said anything,” Jinyoung said, expression unchanging.

Huffing a snort, Jaebeom shifted closer to Jinyoung, opening his arms in invitation that Jinyoung took all too readily, body tucking into Jaebeom’s with such practiced ease. “Just sleep, OK?”

There were hands at Jaebum’s nape, immediately stroking the tail of his long hair almost with yearning. There was a chest aligned with his, body warmth permeating even through their soft clothes. There was a nose suddenly nudging at his neck, his jaw, prodding his own. And there were lips suddenly on his, insistent, assertive, and very, very tempting.

“Jinyoung, baby,” Jaebeom tried to say between kisses.

The force with which Jaebeom had to use his hands to hold Jinyoung’s face back, apart from his, forcefully ending their kiss, made Jaebeom’s heart ache so much. The look of dumbfounded offense on Jinyoung’s face made Jaebeom’s heart wrench.

It was with great strength of will that Jaebeom spoke. “Let’s sleep.”

Without waiting for Jinyoung to say anything more, Jaebeom tucked him into his chest, willing his stroking hands to settle Jinyoung enough to pull him into slumber. He tried very hard to pretend not to hear the sob muffled by his shirt. Nor the seeping dampness he could feel on his skin.

***

The next morning greeted Jaebeom with a heavy, unsettled heart and an empty bed. It was nearing midday and quite odd for him to have woken up so late. His apartment was silent, no indication of another human being present, unless you counted the lingering smell left on Jaebeom’s bed and the additional hoodie and shorts he would later find in his dirty laundry hamper. Far from patching things up, it seemed their relationship was continuing its way down this uncertain, unstable, shaky path. One that Jaebeom had put them on.

A notification ping from his phone tugged at his attention.

 

**Tuan, Mark:**

_I’m about to leave for China_.

 

Jaebeom frowned, unsure why this information was necessary.

 

**Im, Jaebeom** :

_Why are you telling me?_

 

The response was immediate.

 

**Tuan, Mark:**

_Because you’re not going to be the only one alone in an apartment and you two need each other more than you’re willing to admit to one another_.

 

**Im, Jaebeom:**

_Mind your own business_.

 

**Tuan, Mark:**

_I will when it doesn’t mean I have to constantly deal with an extremely sad and pining adult man._

 

Jaebeom let out a frustrated sigh, running an agitated hand through his hair. How did it come to this? How did this become such a complication when everything Jaebeom did was for the complete opposite objective? It had seemed like such a good idea in his mind at the time.

Abandoning any effort at decency and hygiene, Jaebeom was in front of their old group apartment half an hour later, only a beanie and face mask in addition to his sleepwear. Barely having caught his breath after forgoing the lift for the flight of stairs, he urgently punched in their security code and stepped inside. The voice that greeted him made him feel both incredibly warm and cold at the same time.

“Mark-hyung? Why are you back?” Jinyoung called out from inside the apartment, soft footsteps padding on the floor. “Did you forget something–.”

Jinyong paused in the middle of their living room, hands stilling as they fixed his glasses at the sight of his own boyfriend walking in slowly. Jaebeom didn’t miss the way Jinyoung’s plump lips tightened into a line nor the way his entire posture stiffened.

“What are you doing here?” Jinyoung demanded, hands dropping to his pockets, stance strong and defensive.

“You left,” Jaebeom said, matter-of-factly.

Jinyoung tilted his head, the challenge clear in his eyes. It unnerved Jaebeom; he hadn’t seen that defiant look directed at him for a very long time.

“So?” he said. “Are you the only one allowed to leave?”

Jaebeom took tentative steps towards Jinyoung, a brazen act with much precaution equal to that of approaching a sleeping dragon. Every single movement Jaebeom made was followed by Jinyoung’s cautious eyes. So much suspicion, so much distrust. Jaebeom hated being the one to put it there.

“Jinyoung, believe me when I say I didn’t move out because I meant to leave you,” Jaebeom beseeched.

Jinyoung’s hands moved from his pockets to cross at his chest. The walls were rising, and fast. “Judging from last night, it didn’t seem like you wanted me anyway.”

Jaebeom let out a growl of frustration. “You were upset! I didn’t want to take advantage of you while you were still worried over Yugyeom and all you were looking for was a distraction!”

The strings of tension between them, of unresolved stress pulled tight, so very close to brink of snapping.

“You don’t get to decide what I want and what I don’t want!” Jinyoung shouted back.

“No, because _you’re_ always the one that gets to decide that for _me_ , aren’t you?”

_Snap_.

Jinyoung’s eyes widened, stature relaxing out of their rigidity, brows furrowed, meeting at the bridge of his glasses. Jaebeom could see the accusation he’d thrown pierce through the lead wall Jinyoung had been trying to build, could see clearly, and sadly, that only his own arrow would have made that shot.

“When have I ever–.”

“It’s nothing that you’ve done wrong,” Jaebeom cut off before Jinyoung’s pain-stricken and disbelieving voice could finish his own heartbroken sentence. “It really is not your fault. It’s me. It’s all me. This move, me finding my own place, all of this is on me.”

Silence followed, tension so thick it was impossible to break through without harming them both. Jinyoung’s hurt was slowly dissolving into confusion and worry. Jaebeom felt like his heart was bursting with unsaid emotions. The fact that the man who held his heart stood mere feet before him but kept a wary emotional distance between them tore at Jaebeom’s insides.

“You mean everything to me, Jinyoung. You mean _the world_ to me.” Jaebeom inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as he tried to maintain his composure. “And that’s exactly the problem.”

Jaebeom pulled his beanie off, scratching at his bird nest of a bedhead, eyes no longer able to meet Jinyoung’s wide ones.

“Almost five years we’ve been together, and even before that we were together in a sense. Everyone keeps saying how well I took care of you as the older person even at such a young age. Everyone says I’m such a good and reliable leader.” Jaebeom laughed to himself at the incredulity of the words coming out of his mouth. “They don’t know. God, even _I_ never realized it until a few months ago. I really should have. It was so obvious.”

Another deep breath. Yet this time, Jaebeom found the strength to look at Jinyoung again.

“I never would have survived all these years without you,” he confessed. “ _You_ took care of me, _you_ were the person I could always rely on…you were my constant.”

Jaebeom dared himself to take a step closer. When Jinyoung did nothing but cast a wary look at his growing proximity, Jaebeom went on.

“Nyeong, I was losing myself,” he said. “I didn’t know who I was without you and that scared me. Everything I know about myself revolves around you and every time I think to myself that I’ve become a proper, independent adult, I keep remembering that I only made it thus far because of you. I love you and I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me but I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.”

The stance Jinyoung held was wavering, if only but a sliver. But understanding was seeping into his mind and the truth was starting to caress the bruises of his heart in a gentle soothing hold.

“So you needed to prove to yourself that you could be on your own,” Jinyoung stated.

Jaebeom looked up, an earnest apology in his eyes but most definitely no regret. It was a resolve he had made with a strong and set will.

“It was something I had to do for myself,” Jaebeom said. “I never realized it would hurt you so much in the process.”

Their eyes met. Jinyoung’s pain was still etched on his face, but the comprehension seemed to cushion the ache just that tiny bit. It hardly meant he was happy with the declaration.

“I told you I didn’t want to hear your reasons, hyung,” Jinyoung said in a low whisper.

“I know,” Jaebeom said, defeated. “But you deserve to know.”

Speculations have been frequently made that Jinyoung and Jaebeom share nonverbal communication capabilities, the likes of which only one short glance or a featherlight touch could convey a million words and feelings. Truth be told, it simply derived from the fact that when you have spent so much time near a person, getting not only accustomed to their small habits and quirks, but _understanding_ them, that words held little meaning in communicating. It was the unspoken things that relayed what was more important.

The way Jinyoung held Jaebeom’s gaze just that moment longer, the way his eyes seemed to glimmer with a familiar spark for that one moment, only to dim and gloss over the next, it spoke to Jaebeom of Jinyoung’s emotions: understanding, yearning, but also, still, very much, pain.

Jinyoung looked away, his gaze drawn to the half-empty shelf as though he needed a reminder of what Jaebeom had done, the emptiness and hollowness Jaebeom had created in his wake.

Jinyoung needed to heal and it wasn’t Jaebeom’s place to force the wound closed.

“Then you should know too,” Jinyoung spoke, voice strong, but eyes still on the bookshelf, “that this relationship works both ways. You rely on me, but I depend on you just as much.”

A shuffle of Jinyoung’s feet displayed his discomfort with the way he was laying his heart bare. They’d been together for so long, they’d proven to each other how much they cared. Why was this even necessary?

But maybe sometimes words were necessary. And maybe that’s where they went wrong this time.

“I hope you find what you need soon,” Jinyoung said. “Because I don’t know if I can stand on my own without you. I don’t care if that means I’ve lost who I am, whatever that means. To me, I am myself because I am with you. I am the best version of myself when I’m with you. I like the Jinyoung that I can be with you.”

He turned on his heel, back slouching ever the slightest, but a magnanimous gesture to Jaebeom’s trained eyes. The quiver of breath that Jinyoung took, minute as the shake was throughout his body, felt like an earthquake-ian tremor to Jaebeom.

It was hard to hold himself back, to wrench forward that piece of self-control to hold onto his resolve. Not when Jinyoung was clearly hurting, feeling betrayed. Not when the man he loved and had vowed to protect with every strength in him from the first, teenage days they were together, looked close to losing his hopes for their being together, the question of their mutual reliance forging a chasm in their trust.

It hurt more because even now Jinyoung was making sense, guiding him to a realization: maybe he had never been lost, maybe he had never lost himself. Maybe him being with Jinyoung was what made him _found_.

“Jinyoung, I….”

Somehow he had drawn closer, now standing a breath away from a still Jinyoung. From over his shoulders, Jaebeom could see the empty gaze Jinyoung set on the half-empty bookshelf before them, a metaphor in almost its realest sense for everything that was happening between the two of them.

Jaebeom placed a tentative hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder, emboldened when he didn’t flinch, but still keeping the touch light.

_I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you._ _Please forgive me._

One deep inhale and a breathy exhale later, he felt Jinyoung’s hand take the one he’d placed on Jinyoung’s shoulder, gently letting their palms meet and their fingers intertwine. There was no emotional, dramatized, immediate reconciliation where their problems, their doubts and insecurities vanished with one hand hold or one kiss or one heated night of passion. That wasn’t how relationships worked.

Jaebeom stayed with Jinyoung that day, knowing it was crucial he provide assurance for Jinyoung’s hesitance and quench his fear, at the same time, coming to terms with himself and the acceptance that dependency wasn’t the poison to his individuality that he thought it to be.

They barely talked, barely conversing in sentences longer than was strictly necessary, but they stayed together, cooking, eating, allowing each other’s presence to calm their worrying hearts.

It was a delicate process, tentative steps the both of them had to take to reach that midway understanding of what they needed, what they expected from one another and their relationship. It couldn’t be resolved overnight, even if Jaebeom had stayed the night, doing nothing more but allowing Jinyoung to cradle him in his arms, a contradiction to his initial resolve for independence.

Even as they returned to their separate living arrangements and schedules, reunited together only when leisure time permitted and group work called, they re-learned how to build their blocks of trust and commitment. Their bandmates could clearly see that their feelings were still tender and bruised, unquestioning of the odd air between them, but grateful for it in place of the prior animosity.

(It wasn’t for lack of their expressive reaction to the situation, though: Yugyeom didn’t fail to call out Jaebeom’s stupidity time and time again in the confines of their preparation for a duo together, Bambam continued to throw exasperated sighs in Jaebeom’s direction whenever he could, Youngjae showered their private chat with links for songs about mended relationships, Mark’s constant eye-rolling began to make Jaebeom nauseous, and unsurprisingly, Jackson stuck close by Jinyoung’s side, indulging him in hugs and physical affection with the occasional glare directed at Jaebeom when Jinyoung wasn’t looking. The group seemed to unilaterally take Jinyoung’s side in the whole fiasco, and as much as it hurt Jaebeom to think of this unfairness, he really couldn’t find it in himself to disagree with them.)

The steps were slow, calculated, and almost excruciating to watch, but time was on their side.

It was a couple of months later, as they stepped past the darkness and hustle and bustle of a back stage, the noise of a gathered crowd lying beyond the doors, that recovery seemed to be in sight. Lined in single file to enter the recording stage for their end-of-year comeback, awaiting their cue, Jinyoung turned to Jaebeom behind him, their gazes instantly meeting. unprompted, effortless. Something finally shifted into place, back into that place of familiarity, to a spot previously vacated and seemingly left for abandonment.

Twin smiles bloomed on their faces and they could feel themselves breathe freely again. Jinyoung took Jaebeom’s hand in his, eyes never leaving Jaebeom’s, grip squeezing comfortably as they both stepped through the doors to deafening screams and a blinding spotlight.

Jaebeom didn’t let go.

_I’m here. I’m not going anywhere_.

 ***


	4. Light in this Eclipse - JJP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung and Jaebeom have a little heart-to-heart pillow talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joining in the influx of JJP anniversary fics, here's one of my own. Although this isn't exactly set for JJP's actual debut (24/5) but for the anniversary of Bounce being released (the same day the Eclipse MV was released - 20/5). (Spoiler alert: I may, very likely, write something for JJP's actual debut date too)
> 
> Fluff (with a teensy, weensie bit of angst), which I guess is a nice break from all the heavy angst and drama I've been putting JJP through in the previous chapters. Hopefully this will feed some JJP-deprived souls (like me).
> 
> Drawing a bit on JJP's infamous less-than-chummy past and how they've pretty much turned into soulmates now, I thought this was something JJP could address in their relationship. Especially considering both have spoken of how highly they value each other. Their relationship (irl) is so beautiful in how it has grown and I wanted to acknowledge that.
> 
> Comments and JJP-fangirling always welcome <3

 

 

**Light in the Eclipse -** _JJP_

 

***

 

When Jaebeom entered his bedroom that late evening, his watch showing that he was mere hours away from sunrise, he had expected to be greeted by his purring cats (maybe one or two eyeing him blearily as though placing judgment on his late return home once again) and the comfort of his plush and warm bed. He hadn’t counted on an adult male already haphazardly splayed all over his bed, sheets and blankets a casualty of his erratic movements, and the bottom of his sweatshirt riding halfway up his torso, exposing skin that all but rose and dipped with each deep breath the man took.

 

While it wasn’t an unusual occurrence, Jaebeom did think it would be a while before he came home to this bed invader. Especially considering they had met earlier that evening for dinner with the rest of the group, followed closely by what was basically an almost hour-long comeback spoiler session for their fans.

 

Jaebeom tried to not jostle the bed too much when he climbed in, already feeling himself drawn to the body heat being on such tantalizing offer. But Jinyoung in these compromising sleeping positions usually meant he was deep in slumber and not prone to easy disruptions. Nevertheless, he stirred when Jaebeom tried to pull the covers over the both of them and snuggle in for the few hours of shut-eye he could get.

 

“...Beommie?” he asked, voice gruff.

 

“Shh. Go to sleep, babe. It’s late,” Jaebeom lulled, finally getting comfortable close by Jinyoung’s side with an arm and leg locking Jinyoung like a bolster.

 

“No, Beommie.” His voice was still hoarse but there was a familiar petulant whine to it that, had he tried, he could have applied for a trademark.

 

There was a small scuffle where Jinyoung tried to reposition himself to face Jaebeom. He was barely awake, eyes still blinking rapidly amidst a frown and a pout as though he was still trying to gather his conscious thoughts. All the while, his hands clasped tightly on Jaebeom’s cheeks as if they would draw the sleep away quicker.

 

“Nyoung?” Jaebeom asked when Jinyoung did nothing more than stare at him with a frown for the next few moments.

 

Triggered by the call of his name, Jinyoung blinked once, twice, three times, before an ear-splitting grin broke his face. Jaebeom was too tired and quite honestly not even granted enough time to be startled by the sudden smile, because Jinyoung was already pulling their faces together and planting a wet one on his lips.

 

“Happy anniversary,” he said by way of explanation when he stopped kissing but didn’t move their faces away.

 

Jaebeom’s mind (or whatever was left of it at that hour) worked in immediate overtime, mentally running through an entire 365 days worth of celebrated days to pinpoint the anniversary highlights. His mind came to a blank. None of the mental highlights corresponded to that day. And suddenly he was hit with the gripping fear that his immaculate and OCD-driven mind was deteriorating. Was he getting old?

 

“You don’t remember, do you?” Jinyoung asked, reading his silence accurately.

 

“It’s not our anniversary,” Jaebeom pre-empted defensively.

 

“It is,” Jinyoung deadpanned.

 

Jaebeom opened his mouth only to close it again. The more he thought about it, the more a nagging feeling at the back of his mind resonated. There was something, definitely  _ something _ about that day, but for the life of him, Jaebeom couldn’t put his finger on it. And it definitely wasn’t like him to forget. Not when it had something to do with Jinyoung.

 

“The first time we went out?”Jaebeom ventured, knowing that wasn’t the answer even before Jinyoung shook his head. Which, really, only began a series of guesses that Jaebeom himself knew to be incorrect. “The first time you asked me out? The first time  _ I  _ asked you out? The first time we kissed? The first time we sle–.”

 

“Wow, you really forgot,” Jinyoung interjected with his realization.

 

“I...I usually don’t,” Jaebeom said dejectedly, more upset than he’d like to be because this was  _ Jinyoung _ .  _ His _ Jinyoung. How could he ever forget anything about Jinyoung?

 

“Our music video, sweetheart,” Jinyoung explained with a soft smile, thumbs now stroking Jaebeom’s cheeks.

 

Something lit up in Jaebeom’s mind but it didn’t immediately click into place. “Eclipse isn’t released until later today, babe.”

 

“Not Eclipse, babe, no,” Jinyoung said, his face slowly turning nostalgic. A little sad, if Jaebeom was to deduce. “ _ Bounce _ .”

 

The metaphoric puzzle piece fit into place and it immediately shed light behind the reason for Jinyoung’s melancholy. It also explained why Jaebeom hadn’t been privy to categorizing it as an anniversary.

 

“Jinyoung-ah….” Jaebeom’s face softened and he tried hard not to sound as though he was feeling sorry for Jinyoung.

 

Jinyoung held his face tighter, nodding before Jaebeom could continue. “I know, I know,” he said. “I know we agreed to celebrate our happy moments only, but, Beommie, we  _ were _ happy then. Remember how happy we were when our music video was released? And then again when we performed on our first music show?”

 

“Maybe we should celebrate that official debut date too in a couple of days, then?” Jaebeom teased.

 

“We should,” Jinyoung nodded enthusiastically, Jaebeom’s sarcasm completely going over his head or just being selectively ignored (most probably the latter), “but that’s not the point I was trying to make.”

 

Jaebeom wanted to ask Jinyoung to postpone this discussion for the morning, preferably when he’s had his breakfast, his brain screaming for a rest. But one look at Jinyoung’s brightly hopeful eyes willed Jaebeom to push his fatigue away.

 

“I know we agreed to put that past behind us because it hurt so much, but we made that promise so long ago, Beom. We were still really hurt then and I think...I think we were scared. We’d just started, you know, this,” he gestured vaguely between the two of them, “I think it’s time we acknowledged that part of us. We wouldn’t be where we are today if that hadn’t happened.”

 

Jaebeom took both of Jinyoung’s hand in his, clutching them gently in his hold, a slight lump already forming at the memory of their younger days. “I was such a jerk to you then, Nyoungie.”

 

“And I was being extra difficult out of spite to you!” Jinyoung countered. “We were both in a bad place, Beom.  _ But _ ! We’re in a good place now. We’re in a  _ really  _ good place.”

 

Jaebeom let out a sigh. “We had a big fight less than a year ago because I moved out,” he pointed out.

 

Jinyoung frowned, the beginnings of irk showing. “If we’re going to list all the times we’ve fought before, we’ll be here for a long while, hyung.” The use of formalities answered any doubts of his irritation.

 

It was Jaebeom’s turn to sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought it’s a little...simplistic to say we’re in a good place when we can’t get through a day without some argument or rather—Mark’s words, not mine.”

 

“That’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, hyung, and you’re proving it right now,” Jinyoung pointed out, rolling his eyes.

 

Feeling the seeds of annoyance begin to bloom as Jinyoung’s form stiffened and his gaze dropped, Jaebeom let go of his hands to pull him into an embrace. There was a half-hearted struggle but Jinyoung made no attempts to move away.

 

“Babe, just tell me what’s  _ really  _ on your mind,” he whispered, nudging Jinyoung’s face with the tip of his nose.

 

Huffing sulkily, Jinyoung executed a well-aimed knee at Jaebeom’s groin because  _ of course _ , Jaebeom could never get his way without some form of redemption. It was a simple nudge to indicate that Jinyoung was unhappy with being treated like a child, but the attack on his sensitive region made him wince anyway.

 

“I’m sorry I interrupted you before, Nyoungie.” Apologies were always the first step to an appeased Jinyoung. “But I still don’t understand why you’re bringing this up now.”

 

“Well I would have brought it up earlier if you hadn’t come home so late from the studio,” he shot back.

 

Pinching Jinyoung’s side (and silently glad there was  _ something _ to pinch there after being disappointed so often in the lead up to Jinyoung’s drama shooting and his rigorous diet and exercise regime), Jaebeom nuzzled his face into Jinyoung’s.

 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

 

Jinyoung deflated a little and when he spoke, his voice seemed to lose its vigor. “I just...I wanted to celebrate every moment with you, good and bad.”

 

“Me too, Jinyoung, but we both know there’s something more to this that you’re not telling me.”

 

“You are the one person I tell everything to,” Jinyoung said.

 

Tugging Jinyoung impossibly closer, Jaebeom said nothing, simply watching Jinyoung go through the motions of considering and sorting through his thoughts and words. Pushing Jinyoung was never the right route to take; he had to let Jinyoung speak on his own terms, when he was ready. Jinyoung just needed to know that the opening was there for him to take.

 

Jaebeom had almost dozed off when he felt the warm puff of air on his face and the words whispered through Jinyoung’s lips.

 

“Eclipse.”

 

“Our comeback?”

 

Rather than allowing room for himself to explain, Jinyoung buried his head onto Jaebeom’s shoulder, his words muffled against the soft sleep shirt he had on.

 

“I don’t want this comeback to eclipse our debut as JJP, as ironic as that sounds.”

 

Absentmindedly fiddling with the edges of Jinyoung’s shirt, Jaebeom contemplated the confession. It struck something far, far deep into the recesses of his heart.

 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jinyoung said in a very small, very fragile voice.

 

“I’m not laughing,” Jaebeom said.

 

“I know it’s stupid.”

 

“It’s not stupid.”

 

“I didn’t want JJP to be forgotten.”

 

Jaebeom gently pried Jinyoung’s face away from their shelter on Jaebeom’s shoulder, trying to get him to look at Jaebeom.

 

“Baby, I don’t think  _ anyone _ has forgotten JJP,” he said. “It comes up pretty much every time we do a show together. Not that Yugyeom will let anyone forget anyway.”

 

Jinyoung let Jaebeom have his turn in cupping his cheeks, stroking his thumb against them lovingly as he tried to coax more out of Jinyoung. He didn’t shy away from Jaebeom’s gaze, meeting them head-on, but it took a while for Jaebeom to decipher the recluse darkness lurking beneath the surface.

 

“You’re afraid that  _ I’ll _ forget.”

 

The smile that lifted Jinyoung’s face was anything but relieved. “You already did.”

 

He had, he realized with startling realization. The commencement of this conversation was evidence of that. All fatigue and drowsiness evaporated to make way for regret, hesitation, and so, so much empathetic sadness.

 

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung said. “I know we agreed. It’s just that….” He gave a deep, shuddering breath that reverberated with Jaebeom. “It’s okay.”

 

The smile he gave Jaebeom was restricted, his eyes sparkling with moisture. God, it hurt Jaebeom. It  _ killed _ him to see Jinyoung battle his own feelings, torn between knowing this was something he probably shouldn’t make a big deal out of but also really wanting this for no real reason except that it concerned the both of them.

 

He watched the battle brew in Jinyoung’s eyes, a contrast to his composed face. Eyes that Jaebeom had always found himself losing himself in for the simple curiousity of unearthing the infinite meaning of each flicker, each brown sparkle the key to decrypting Jinyoung’s most inner thoughts. Eyes that Jaebeom had no qualms wanting to look into for the rest of his days on earth.

 

“Hey, babe,” Jaebeom called gently as Jinyoung was visibly trying to find a way to close the discussion without getting too emotional.

 

“Hm?” Jinyoung mumbled.

 

Jaebeom leaned in slowly, meeting Jinyoung just about halfway for a kiss, one as gentle as the first Jinyoung had given him earlier, but with a little more push from Jaebeom because he wanted, needed Jinyoung to know that he was willing to give as much as he could in this relationship, as much as Jinyoung would let him.

 

He pulled away and kissed Jinyoung’s nose softly, lingering in close distance. “Happy anniversary, Jinyoungie.” 

 

To say Jinyoung  _ beamed _ , was a devastating understatement. The way his face lit up would be enough to warm even the coldest of Jaebeom’s winter days. His smile pulled at every muscle of his face, crinkling up in all the right places and was filed away in Jaebeom’s mental memory bank of Stunning Jinyoung Smiles. It was the way Jaebeom always wanted to see Jinyoung; happy, unbridled and unrestrained, his heart and emotions on full display for him to bask in.

 

“I’m sorry I was a jerk to you back then. My teenage self was not the most apt at dealing with having feelings for someone.”

 

“We’ve been through this, Beommie. We were both young and stupid then, but we’ve grown since then,” Jinyoung soothed.

 

Jaebeom chuckled. “Not that it has stopped us from fighting with each other.”

 

Jinyoung rolled his eyes but laughed along with Jaebeom. “Not unless you stop doing dumb things like moving out without consulting me.”

 

It was said without any malign intent and with a teasing glint in Jinyoung’s eyes and at that, Jaebeom knew they had truly gone past that particular bumpy ride. And if that wasn’t an indicator, Jinyoung’s light pecks on his lips told him more than he needed to know.

 

He caught one peck and held it for a little more than a lingering kiss. “We’re in a good place, yeah?”

 

The repetition of his own previous statement had Jinyoung laughing breathily. “The best, sweetheart,” Jinyoung assured. “But it’s good, you know, to accept the bad too. It’s part of us. It’s what made us what we are today. It’s part of our journey together.”

 

Jaebeom squinted a little suspiciously. “Is this another ploy to add to the already long list of our...passionate celebratory activities.”

 

Jinyoung chuckled heartily. “Oh, Beommie. We don’t need an anniversary for...passionate celebratory activities.” The almost predatory gaze Jinyoung gave him was confirmation of that. Jaebeom made a mental note to cash in on that promise in the very near future. 

 

“Okay, then since it’s our anniversary, shouldn’t we be sitting next to each other for today’s comeback live show?” Jaebeom wondered.

 

“You know the kids have particularly made a request to us against that exact notion for this comeback saying, and I quote, ‘You two are ridiculously flirty when sitting next to each other and it makes us want to barf’,” Jinyoung said, fingers idly playing with the messy strands of Jaebeom’s hair.

 

“Yeah, but still.” It was Jaebeom’s turn to whine and his pout became pronounced.

 

Jinyoung tried to placate him by stroking his head and petting his nape adoringly. “I’m here next to you now, aren’t I, babe?”

 

“Only because you broke into my apartment and slept in my bed,” Jaebeom pointed out.

 

“It’s not breaking and entering if I know the passcode and even your cats greet me like their own owner.” Jinyoung sounded unabashedly smug.

 

“I can’t believe they’re sweeter to you than they are to me.” Jaebeom’s pout returned in full force. He tried hard not to sulk at that thought.

 

“Well you know what they say about pets.”

 

“What?”

 

“They’re a reflection of their owners.”

 

It took Jaebeom a moment to process the inference. And for each second that Jaebeom needed to come to that realization, Jinyoung’s smile only grew wider and wider until it was another of his full-blown grin. Another one for Jaebeom’s Stunning Jinyoung Smiles bank.

 

“I’m sweet to you?” Jaebeom dare asked.

 

“Only the sweetest,” Jinyoung confirmed.

 

“You know the boys will be insufferable for the actual JJP 7-year anniversary,” Jaebeom said.

 

“I’m counting on it,” Jinyoung said almost too happily for someone about to be the center of possibly mockery and taunting from their fellow manic bandmates. (Because, of course, Jaebeom would end up being the brunt of that joke and Jinyoung would just laugh as Jaebeom tried to chase Yugyeom and Bambam around the practice room to set them straight.)

 

But Jaebeom honestly didn’t care about being teased.

 

Making Jinyoung smile, making Jinyoung happy, making Jinyoung allow himself to be secure enough to...be himself. If that wasn’t a noble life goal, Jaebeom didn’t know what was. Sure he wanted to perform with his boys for as long as they physically could. He also wanted to continue singing to a crowd with the knowledge that his voice, lyrics, and song could touch people’s lives. And he would never give up making music that spoke from his heart.

 

But his love for Jinyoung was what put melody in his heart. The love that inspired his emotions to translate into lyrics. The love that made Jaebeom want to  _ live _ .

 

“So I can hold onto your light until the end...I’m gonna win this fight.”

 

The words and harmony slipped out of Jaebeom’s lips without any subconscious thought. His surprise at his own self, however, was not mirrored with Jinyoung. If anything, it seemed Jinyoung had been expecting it.

 

“ _ We’re  _ gonna win this fight,” Jinyoung amended.

 

Jaebeom could only scoot his head closer to Jinyoung’s, leaning in for one last peck before his body and mind finally caved in to sleep. He didn’t let Jinyoung go, holding him closer in his arms, letting Jinyoung mold himself into Jaebeom’s warmth, fingers wrapped tightly around Jaebeom’s wrist.

 

Together.

 

They’d been together from the beginning.

 

And together they would remain.

  
***  
  
  



	5. Wang's Worries - JJP (Jackson's POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson just wants his best friend to get over his petty ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar to Story 2 (Tuan's Troubles), this is written in the perspective of one Wang Jackson as the third person observing as things go down between JJP. In Story 4, I wrote a very fluff piece for JJP's MV release anniversary, presuming that their actual debut anniversary would be celebrated in a similar manner. But then Jinyoung had to go completely emo and savage on JB in all the clips we've seen for their first comeback week. At the same time, we're also picking up all those JJP crumbs of Jinyoung poking JB's cheeks. So I thought it might be nice to put a little perspective on this ever-confusing JJP interaction.
> 
> Written from Jackson's POV because I absolutely LOVE Jinson bff-ery. Jackson is, hands down, #1 Jinyoung hype-man (and also a subscriber to the notion that Jinyoung can do better than JB). But Jackson is also a self-proclaimed pacifist who likes to be the middlemen between conflicts (remember the mat argument between JJP that Jackson tried to resolve?) so, in my headcanon, he's reasonable enough to not blindly always take Jinyoung's side.
> 
> ANYWAY, enjoy the story. Mostly angst as usual, but I promise the Jinson banter makes up for it :)

 

 **Wang's Worries** -  _JJP_ (Jackson's POV)

 

***

 

Common assumption would have people believe that Wang Jackson was a person incapable of letting things go. Allegations ranged from the lightest assertions of ongoing banter between Jackson and another member to long-term grudges that would take days, weeks, months, and even cycles of comebacks before Jackson stopped bringing up the matter. (Youngjae was currently the record-holder for being the subject of these long-held grudges having been involved in Jackson’s top two incidents pertaining to food and a dead plant). And to a certain extent, this was true. Jackson himself had not held back in making his grievances known, using broadcasts and interviews to voice his displeasure at one action or another that his fellow bandmate did to offend his being.

 

But Jackson was nothing— _ nothing _ —compared to Petty Prince Extraordinaire, Park Jinyoung.

 

“Jinyoung, you need to let this go. It’s not his fault.”

 

In retrospect, maybe Jackson should have waited until they had privacy and were actually face-to-face before addressing the issue, but his best friend had been grumbling non-stop and pouting for hours on end, his lips were in danger of plopping off his face. So, really, he had no choice but to talk over the curtains separating their two booths as they waited for their respective attendants to start their treatment.

 

“Haven’t they waxed your mouth shut yet?” came Jinyoung’s scathing reply.

 

Sometimes it was tiring to be best friends with someone whose default tone and general coping mechanism was sarcasm. Jackson didn’t hold back the eye-roll.

 

“Avoiding him and sticking close to me isn’t going to resolve the issue,” Jackson went on.

 

“There is no issue to resolve,” Jinyoung argued.

 

“Then why are you treating him like he’s contagious with the plague? And don’t think we didn’t notice the sudden change from disgustingly clingy to acting like you belong on polar opposites of the world! I  _ know  _ you spent the night at his place last Sunday–.”

 

“ _ Shut up, Jackson _ .”

 

“–and he couldn’t stop groping your ass during practice yesterday thinking he’s  _ so  _ subtle when he’s about as subtle as The Hulk roaming the streets of Sakaar. But then you got into  _ my _ van and did the Vlive with  _ me _ and kept telling me I’m hot and making flirty eyes at me. I mean, I get it, Jinyoung, I am quite the treat, but you’ve got a man who, admittedly, has always made me question your taste, but he’s  _ your _ man and you’re in a committed relationship–.”

 

“Oh my God, Jackson,  _ will you shut up _ ?”

 

“ _ No _ , I will  _ not _ ,” Jackson persisted, refusing to back down, his voice only rising, “because apparently you found it important enough to ask for that Verse 2-inspired Jaebeom perm for this comeback and wouldn’t shut up about your 7-year anniversary to fans, but then you act like Jaebeom is some vile piece of garbage that shouldn’t exist! Not to mention the fact that it’s always  _ your _ fingers on Jaebeom’s wrist for Eclipse’s routine like your locking him down and won’t let anyone else touch him–.”

 

“ _ I swear to God, Wang Jackson, I’ll talk to you after we’re done with the waxing, okay _ ?”

 

Jackson shut his mouth, pursing his lips, thinking. “Promise?”

 

“Promise,” Jinyoung confirmed.

 

“Jinyoung, you know I take promises seriously.”

 

“What do you want, a legally-binding document with enforceable sanctions if the promise is broken?”

 

Jackson found himself contemplating the idea. “That wouldn’t hurt.”

 

But before he could negotiate that possibility, the salon’s attendants had arrived with a scuffle of their shoes on the linoleum floor, and neither Jackson nor Jinyoung could speak without getting hot wax on all the wrong places.

 

Jackson would later wish he  _ had _ pushed for that contractual document.

 

***

_ “The company wants to close that chapter. They don’t want anything more to do with JJ. Not unless they decide otherwise.” _

 

Jackson recalled the utterly dejected way Jinyoung had looked and sounded when he had confided Jaebeom’s recount of his meeting with the company management. A meeting he had originally attended to fine-tune their comeback, but one that Jaebeom had agreed, with Jinyoung’s blessing and encouragement, to raise the possibility of allowing a mini JJ Project anniversary celebration with the fans. They were ready to take the bare minimum: a short Vlive of just Jinyoung and Jaebeom greeting the fans and thanking them for their constant support (cameos by their GOT7 bandmates would have, also, been inevitable). But any discussion of what form the celebration could take was immediately snuffed by complete and utter rejection of any JJ-related notion.

 

The focus was on the group’s comeback, they said. Nothing else should draw attention away from promoting their song, mini album, and ultimately the world tour, they firmly instructed.

 

Jaebeom had only let Jinyoung know the result of that meeting, looking apologetic and so, so deeply regretful, arms immediately reaching out to comfort Jinyoung. But Jinyoung had turned away, walked away, refused to interact with Jaebeom again for the rest of the day. Or any of the days afterwards, for that matter, offering only scathing remarks and brief glances.

 

Jackson had seen the entire scene unfold from afar, had later been confused by Jinyoung’s aloof attitude with Jaebeom but almost contrastingly sweetness with Jackson. And only when they were waiting for their turn at the waxing salon had Jinyoung let Jackson know what had transpired between himself and Jaebeom.

 

Or the cliff-notes version of it. None of which explained to Jackson why Jinyoung was giving Jaebeom the coldest, most frigid shoulder.

 

“I am  _ not _ giving him the cold shoulder,” Jinyoung would deny later as Jackson  _ finally _ caught up with him again backstage before a recording rehearsal.

 

The man had been deftly subjecting Jackson to similar avoidance tactics after their afternoon at the waxing salon (with another appointment already booked for the next week) and refusing to shed further light on his own non-confrontational ways of dealing with his problems.

 

“So our leader looking at you like a kicked puppy pretty much every chance he gets and you barely even making eye-contact with him is supposed to be normal JJ behaviour?” Jackson challenged. “Yugyeom, back me up on this. Is this normal JJ behaviour?”

 

Yugyeom, standing close by, adjusting his hair and mic, perked up at the mention of his name. He caught Jackson looking at him expectantly and glanced briefly between the stone-faced Jinyoung and hesitantly torn Jaebeom standing a little further away, seeming as though he was battling himself on whether to try to approach Jinyoung again. (Jaebeom’s earlier attempt at staying close to Jinyoung earlier that afternoon had only resulted in their being stood next to each other in their line-up prior to entering the studio, but Jinyoung had made no indication of acknowledgement and simply moved on)

 

“No, it is not,” Yugyeom agreed.

 

“Spoken like a true JJ stalker and enthusiast,” he said, clapping Yugyeom on the back whilst throwing a triumphant grin at a scowling Jinyoung. “You almost ripped his arm off during dry rehearsal yesterday.”

 

Jinyoung tsked. “He was smiling afterwards. He’s fine.” 

 

“If that’s how you show affection, I regret ever wanting to date you,” Jackson said with a frown. “No matter how hot you are.”

 

Yugyeom, seemingly still deep in thought as he did little jogs on the spot to warm himself up, piped up, thoughtfully, “Although, I’ve been wondering if Jinyoung-hyung is trying to make up for being a sulking ass by those sweet, small touches to Jaebeom-hyung on live broadcast.”

 

Jinyoung gave Yugyeom that one look he only reserved for their tall baby. “That’s a contradiction. You said I’m giving Jaebeom the cold shoulder but also being sweet to him. Make up your mind.”

 

Yugyeom shrugged. “Isn’t that basically your dynamics? That hot and cold weird push-and-pull you guys have had going on for years?”

 

“There’s something really unhealthy and dysfunctional about that,” Jackson wondered out loud.

 

Yugyeom barked out a laugh. “Yeah, but you’re talking about a relationship with one musical genius oddball and a petty Satan reincarnation, so it’s bound to be anything but normal.”

 

He got a hard push for that comment, whining as he stumbled a few steps back in momentum.

 

Jinyoung gave him a warning look. “When you’re done passing judgment on my relationship….”

 

“Well we wouldn’t be passing judgment if you just functioned like a normal couple,” Jackson pointed out. “Not where you’re scolding your boyfriend on a live show one moment and poking his cheek on another.”

 

Jackson could have sworn he heard Jinyoung mumble something along the lines of, “They’re cute cheeks,” but the stage manager’s call for them and the resounding welcoming cheers from fans distracted him enough to put the thought out of his mind.

 

Temporary as that distraction was.

 

***

 

There was little Jackson could do but watch from afar, trying as much as he could to maintain any sense of normalcy within the group (because, very obviously and predictably, with every up or down of Jinyoung and Jaebeom’s relationship came either a drop in attentiveness or increase in boisterousness to make up for the either chilly or extra heated atmosphere between their resident ‘parents’). But this time posed an extra challenge for not only himself as self-proclaimed best friend to one Park Jinyoung but also to their bandmates.

 

Usually they had a few days (sometimes longer) of one mood before Jinyoung and Jaebeom shifted to the complete polar opposite mood. In short, they would be completely inseparable and disgustingly physical with one another for at least a number of days first before they were at each other’s throats for the next few days count. The general equation Jackson had hypothesized (to the agreement of his other bandmates) was that one extreme period of touchiness was usually balanced out with an almost equal length of grouchiness.

 

But this time was different.

 

In that there was no hint of balance and barely any significant time lapse sufficient to be called a ‘period’ passed.

 

Jackson watched, as Jaebeom fought between trying to win Jinyoung’s attention but also recognizing the need to give him space, both for Jinyoung and his own sake. Jackson could imagine it couldn’t be easy to be rejected so often or, even when they weren’t close together, to have sharp and derisive comments thrown at him. Comments that were different from the usual cheeky, teasing tone Jinyoung usually took with Jaebeom, but much more malicious and much more intended to be, simply put, mean.

 

But harsh pushes were almost always followed very closely with a very tight and abrupt pull. Unprompted and entirely uncalled for, with Jaebeom already keeping his distance by standing in the back row during their backstage interview that day on a music show, Jinyoung had, instead of the scripted shoving of their respective microphones in Jaebeom’s face as he introduced their song, stretched out a solitary finger and slowly poked Jaebeom’s cheek. Jaebeom almost faltered in his monologue as his eyes strayed and locked onto Jinyoung’s, crinkled into his signature smile.

 

_ “They’re cute cheeks!” _ rang in Jackson’s memory as he had watched the exchange.

 

More than anything, Jackson knew these little ‘sweet touches’ Yugyeom had referred to was involuntary, absent minded almost, because they derived out of habit and naturally occurred between Jinyoung and Jaebeom without much thought. So he  _ knew _ Jinyoung wasn’t entirely mad, or, at the very least, still cared very much for Jaebeom. And he was sure this was what kept Jaebeom motivated to stay close to Jinyoung.

 

Which made it all the more confusing when they returned to the studio later that evening to shoot three different dance practice versions (Jackson still couldn’t believe the company let them rent out  _ ass _ tronaut suits on his whim when they had refused a JJP anniversary).

 

Perhaps Jaebeom had the universe backing him up, if their part switch dance practice shoot was any indication. Jaebeom’s brightly smiling face when he read the name on the green paper he’d picked up could not have been more pronounced.

 

It almost seemed like fate itself was orchestrating Jinyoung and Jaebeom’s reconciliation. It was painful, bordering on torture, to watch Jaebeom barely glance away from Jinyoung throughout the entire shoot, both to check on his next moves in the choreography, and also, quite obviously, to get Jinyoung’s approval. And he did so all the while still maintaining a smile on his face, as though it was one big joke, not that Jinyoung was genuinely, legitimately irate. 

 

To Jinyoung’s credit, Jaebeom was trying a little too hard, everyone could see that. During their final dance practice shoot, Jaebeom was being absolutely ridiculous, as any righteous person would while dressed in a white astronaut costume with a comically exposed butt-padding. The crux of the matter was that he, absent the excuse he had during the part switch shoot, still directed his behaviour a little too much at Jinyoung. He was basically setting himself up for heartbreak.

 

And it was truly heartbreaking to see Jinyoung, for lack of a better term, both figuratively and literally push Jaebeom away. Not even in the playful manner Yugyeom is constantly subjected to, but this almost seemed violent. At one point, Jackson even feared for Jaebeom’s safety from the sheer atmosphere of contempt Jinyoung seemed to always be radiating whenever Jaebeom came within his proximity.

 

A huge kudos to Jaebeom, however, because he persisted. And he did so all the while still maintaining a smile on his face, as though it was one big joke, not that Jinyoung was genuinely, legitimately irate. Even until the end, Jaebeom was smiling and grinning, but slowly, the smiles turned sad, strained, desperate.

 

And though Jinyoung’s strongly held mask of indifference were showing signs of shifting with the occasional wrinkled, unbridled grin he threw at Jaebeom when he let his guard down, ultimately, at the end of the day, when they were dismissed and shipped off in the vans, Jinyoung blatantly ignored Jaebeom’s attempts at striking conversation by effectively putting on his earphones and pulling his hoodie up around his face.

 

Dejected barely even scratched the surface of how Jaebeom looked. Taking a deep breath and giving Jinyoung, strapped into his seat, determinedly looking in the other direction, one last longing look, Jaebeom stepped back and headed towards the other awaiting van.

 

Jackson’s eyes met his as he made his way to Jinyoung’s van, but even the gritted teeth and jutted chin wasn’t enough to dissipate the utter despair of his eyes. Jackson wanted to hug Jaebeom and tell him everything would be alright, but truth be told, he didn’t know if it would. The only thing he knew was that his best friend, the hailed actor Park Jinyoung, could hold a grudge longer than Youngjae could hold a steady note.

 

Jaebeom simply gave Jackson’s shoulder a squeeze, walking in the opposite direction, away from Jinyoung’s van. Empathic to Jaebeom’s pain, Jackson climbed into the seat next to Jinyoung, who, by then, had removed his earphones but was still shrouded in his dark hoodie.

 

Countless times, through arguments, quarrels and fights, Jackson hadn’t ceased to stand by Jinyoung’s side, always being the supportive best friend in light of this constantly teetering relationship of theirs. For the first time, Jackson felt his allegiance shift.

 

“You’re an ass,” he said simply to his best friend.

 

He didn’t miss the indignantly shocked expression Jinyoung sent him, but chose to take a leaf out of Jinyoung’s book and ignore it in lieu of music and the isolation of his hooded sweater.

 

***

 

Everything came to a crashing halt late Sunday afternoon.

 

It would be their last music show for the week, wrapping up their comeback week on a hopefully high note, especially with the very positive response they’d received for the mini album. After the events on Friday, the second day of their comeback run, Jackson had stuck by Jaebeom’s side, particularly for their official schedules. A symbolic gesture, if anything, to back up his reprimand to his best friend, even if he didn’t outright shut Jinyoung out (as Jinyoung had Jaebeom). He didn’t want to stand adversary to Jinyoung, knowing that was the most counterproductive stance to take and would further drive Jinyoung’s ego into a corner. But he  _ did _ want Jinyoung to realize how irrational and unreasonable he was being, given Jaebeom’s relentless endeavours to set things right.

 

And that was why Jackson could be found sitting next to Jaebeom at fansigns when the man had been shunned to the absolute end of the table on his own. And that was why Jackson had let Jaebeom indulge in some physical comfort during that one odd Vlive in the closet. Jackson’s mood had already been soured by the disapproving way a staff member had inquired their questionable shooting location and the concern for exposing stage outfits (as though their fans would refuse to watch their performance simply because they’d seen the designated outfits), and it had been further annoyed by Jinyoung’s almost complete dismissal, if not, outright animosity at Jaebeom. Jackson had seen and felt what the cameras hadn’t caught with Jaebeom using his leg as a pillow; his deep sighs and downcasted looks whenever Jinyoung refused to meet his gaze or threw him a harsh remark. 

 

At this point exasperated and so, so disappointed with his best friend but still very much intent on restoring peace in the group, Jackson resolved to tackle Sunday with renewed fervour and hope that Jinyoung could be talked into letting go of whatever silly grudge he held.

 

He barely had time to set his game plan in motion when the accident happened.

 

It wasn’t so much an accident as an accumulation of red flags they should have identified from the beginning and been able to prevent had they taken the necessary precaution. The choreography was demanding and they knew they had to tread carefully around certain steps. But it wouldn’t be Jaebeom if he didn’t exert at least triple the energy any of the others gave when dancing on stage. And even despite his own admission of fatigue and lack of sufficient rest between hectic schedules, moving from one promotion to another, Jaebeom had pushed on, responsibility as a group member and leader fueling him on.

 

Jackson had been entirely truthful when he’d said, on a variety show broadcast, that he wouldn’t think of becoming the group leader. It wasn’t an easy job and he had complete faith, trust for and loyalty to Jaebeom, who had taken up the role rather hesitantly at first but excelled so well over the years.

 

But he knew even Jaebeom had his limits. Prolonged physical exhaustion, topped off with his emotional pillar keeping him estranged seemed to be that limit.

 

And that was when he fell.

 

The fall itself shouldn’t have been anything of major concern. But given Jaebeom’s history of injuries and the fact that it took him longer than was normal to pick himself up, unable to hide his pain, was enough to cause alarm.

 

They completed the rehearsal, thankfully without another hitch, and were quickly ushered by staff back into their waiting room. Upon the closing call of their rehearsal, Jackson had immediately sought out Jaebeom to ensure he wasn’t in prolonged pain nor in any immediate danger. While Jaebeom did, indeed, seem to be in lingering pain that worried him, what he saw, in the security of the darkness backstage, calmed his heart.

 

Jinyoung, a hand on Jaebeom’s lower back, and the other clutching at his face, look harried and panic-stricken. His eyes looked Jaebeom up and down several times, no words escaping his mouth even as Jaebeom repeatedly tried to assure him that he was alright, that the pain was subsiding.

 

His words fell on deaf ears. Ignoring his other five bandmates also crowded around Jaebeom (including Jackson who tried to pull Jinyoung away from Jaebeom long enough to get medical staff check up on him), Jinyoung lead Jaebeom back into their waiting room, staff and bandmates trailing behind.

 

Once inside the privacy of the waiting room, Jinyoung let medical staff attend to Jaebeom and ensure his well-being, but he wouldn’t let Jaebeom go, both hands clutching tightly at Jaebeom’s. The other five stood awkwardly nearby, unsure what to do and a little disconcerted that even through his winces of pain as a painkiller spray and patch was placed on his lower back, Jaebeom remained smiling and telling them that he was alright. He was eventually declared uninjured and unhindered in carrying out their live stage to the relief of the entire room.

 

Jinyoung remained unwavering by his side, even as Jaebeom returned hugs and words of concern from his bandmates. Jinyoung’s eyes never left Jaebeom for even a second and that was more than enough for Jackson to understand that they needed time alone, just the two of them as he ushered his nosy four brothers away. 

 

Jinyoung and Jaebeom liked to pretend that their relationship was inconspicuous, that they had kept things discreet enough to not draw any conclusions about the actual romantic nature of their relationship. It was anything but. In fact, it had become an unspoken rule, even for the staff, that they would avert their eyes and attention away from the two at these particular moments, letting them remain in the delusion of their secrecy, but also to ensure them privacy.

 

At times like these, however, everything around them seemed to melt away and disappear, self-awareness of their surroundings diminishing instantly. Jinyoung took Jaebeom in his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug and cradling him to his chest in an almost paternal gesture. Jackson always found this common occurrence interesting to watch because Jinyoung was much slimmer than Jaebeom, yet he seemed to just fold so effortlessly into Jinyoung’s embrace as though sinking comfortably into his haven of solace. Not only that, the broad shoulders Jaebeom seemed to always hold up proudly, strongly, squarely, would always collapse into something much softer as though the weight had been lifted off them, even if only for a brief moment.

 

It was a beautiful sight to see, particularly after the past few days of tension they’d had to endure. Perhaps in a more secluded space and at a different time, Jinyoung would be peppering Jaebeom with kisses, pulling their faces closer for something much deeper, and perhaps letting his actions speak their silent apology and regret. But Jackson caught Jinyoung’s lips mouthing that apology over and over again atop Jaebeom’s head, fingers stroking his back to convey his sincerity, eyes shut tight to will the tears away. And he saw Jaebeom’s mouth mutter in response, head nodding in tandem as though to assure Jinyoung that he was forgiven.

 

A collective sigh of relief seemed to ripple throughout the group, setting them at ease for the first time in days. Yugyeom was already trying to capture the scene on camera, a complete disregard for the intimate moment between Jaebeom and Jinyoung. (Jackson had long suspected that somewhere in the depths of his own apartment, Yugyeom had his own little shrine as a dedicated JJ Project fanboy.) Mark was no longer rolling his eyes at every Jinyoung snipe at Jaebeom, but going back to being exasperated at their extensive public display of affection. Bambam managed to hold back loudly saying his signature, “Ewwww,”, choosing, instead to type it out in their group text (in response to Yugyeom sharing the picture he’d taken, captioning it ‘Mom and Dad made up!’). Youngjae squeezed Jackson on the shoulder, as though it had been Jackson’s doing that lead to this reconciliation. But the message was clear: they were all happy Jinyoung and Jaebeom had made up.

 

The perfect end to that day came during their live interview recording, as Jaebeom set their standing arrangement with him and Jinyoung in front and next to each other. Jinyoung hadn’t protested nor shied away from the arm that Jaebeom put around his shoulder when shooting began. Far from it, Jinyoung had responded with a bright smile, hands to his flaming cheeks, and fingers subtly fiddling with Jaebeom’s ear on live television as though that was the most normal exchange to happen between bandmates.

 

It wasn’t perfect and it was a far cry from how ridiculously affectionate they usually were, but it was a start. The turnaround had also occurred under highly unwelcome circumstances, but it brought them back together nonetheless.

 

And, maybe, as Jackson watched Jinyoung refuse to stray more than an arms-length away from Jaebeom, getting into the same van at the end of their schedule, sitting much too near to one another despite the available space in the large van, maybe they could now  _ finally _ celebrate their JJ anniversary properly, just the two of them.

 

(Later that night, or, more precisely, very early the next morning, he received a text.

 

**Park Gae the Actor** :

I was an ass.

 

**Wang Gae:**

But you have a nice ass.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

Just ‘nice’?

 

**Wang Gae:**

Peach perfect.

 

**Park Gae the Actor** :

But seriously, thank you.

 

**Wang Gae:**

Wang Gae!

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

……….

 

**Wang Gae:**

Say it or I send your unshaven pictures to the public. And not the cute ones, either. I’m talking about pre-waxed Park Jinyoung in all his hairy glory.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

………..Park Gae.

 

**Wang Gae:**

See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And speaking of waxing, same time, same place next week?

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

Sure, but maybe a drop by the tanning salon first?

 

**Wang Gae:**

JB likes the tan, does he?

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

Of course. Why wouldn’t he?

 

**Wang Gae:**

Had a fun private 7th year anniversary celebration?

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

Goodnight, Wang Jackson.

 

**Wang Gae:**

Hey, you texted me first!

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

_ Goodnight _ .

 

**Wang Gae** :

Geez, already with the italicized emphasis. I get it, I get it. Don’t forget to give your man enough time to recuperate from today’s fall and whatever you guys were up to just now. We’ve got more practice tomorrow morning.

 

**Park Gae the Actor** :

I’m not going to dignify that with a response.

 

**Wang Gae:**

That counts as a response.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

I hate you.

 

**Wang Gae:**

No, you don’t.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

No, I don’t. But I will if you don’t put an end to this messaging.

 

**Wang Gae:**

Only because you admitted you were an ass, I’m going to admit wrong and pretend it wasn’t you that texted me first and that you could easily ignore your phone and my messages if you wanted to. Goodnight, Park Gae.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

Goodnight, Wang Gae.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

And thank you.

 

**Park Gae the Actor:**

:)

 

Jackson mentally prepared himself for more ass-grabbing, heart eyes, and overall nauseating public displays of affection the next day. But, hey, anything to make his bandmates happy.)


End file.
